<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Weight of Living by hanged_albatross</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058354">The Weight of Living</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanged_albatross/pseuds/hanged_albatross'>hanged_albatross</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableist Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, SO, because kids can be mean, its the boys on Kamino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:49:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanged_albatross/pseuds/hanged_albatross</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard being different on Kamino, surrounded by thousands of identical faces and voices. But, as the squad of four Experimental Clones quickly discover, the most dangerous thing that someone who is different can do is be better than the others.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Weight of Living</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights to the small room automatically flickered on as three young boys trudged in, dropping their gear in haphazard piles by the door. The lankiest of the group, who was around 13 in standard years, made it three steps through the threshold before collapsing to the ground. His awkwardly long limbs stretched out, taking up most of floor space as he tried to find some relief in his cramping shoulders. </p><p>"Well," Crosshair groaned, closing his eyes. "That was a complete and total disaster." </p><p>The next boy that came through the door was about a standard year younger than the other two, but triple their size. His shoulders were too broad for the armor, and his hands too big for his gloves, and his booming voice too loud for most people to tolerate. </p><p>"At least we took out some droids that time," Wrecker pointed out, carefully stepped over Crosshair before jumping into the lowest bunk. The old-fashioned metal frame creaked under a weight that it was clearly not designed to hold. </p><p>"Falling on one doesn't count." </p><p>"A dead droid's still dead," Wrecker replied and looked across the room as the last of their group shuffled in. "You okay Hunter?"</p><p>Hunter threw down his gear, ignoring the question as he sat down on the storage chest at the foot of bed. He stared ahead at the blank metal wall, his breathing becoming increasingly heavy and his shoulders going rigid. Crosshair and Wrecker exchanged concerned looks. They both knew how <em>intense</em> Hunter would get after their training sessions with Dross. Their trainer was always particularly harsh towards him, and today was no different.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The three boys scrambled to get up and over the last obstacle of the course- the rope wall. If that wasn't difficult enough, there were also two training droid following and firing stun-rounds.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Wrecker, help Cross up," Hunter said, aiming in the general direction of one of the droids that had disappeared behind a barrier. "I'm right behind you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He closed his eyes, trying to sense just where it had gone. That turned out to be a mistake- as always. There was to much interference from the complex electrical work of Kamino, it was like trying to catch a singular raindrop in a hurricane. Feeling the surge of a headache, Hunter abandoning his original plan. He slung his training rifle across his back and grabbed the coarse rope. It burned his palms as he pulled himself up little by little. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Almost there!" Wrecker yelled, extending an arm down towards him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Crosshair, now perched on top of the wall, glanced across the training room. From his new vantage point, a flash of movement caught his eye. But before he could react, or even call out a warning, a stun-round was fired that hit Hunter square in the back. He yelped in pain and lost his grip on the rope. The impact on the metal floor forced all the air from his lungs and he laid on the ground, writhing in pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When Hunter's vision returned, one of their trainers- Junno Dross- was standing over him. She shook her head in disappointment.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I thought your defects were supposed to make you better?" she asked sarcastically. "Well, I'm sure that the medical commission is going to be interested at your 'progress'- which is to say that you're just a waste of bunk space."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Knowing when Hunter was about to fall into one of his silent rages, Crosshair and Wrecker both glared and pointed at each other in the same exact moment.  </p><p><em>'You talk to him,</em>' Crosshair silently mouthed, to which Wrecker just jabbed a finger towards Hunter and shook his head. </p><p>Their silent stare-off went on for a full minute before Crosshair rolled his eyes and reluctantly accepted the job as mediator. It was actually written in his official file that he '<em>didn't play well with others</em>', but for Hunter he made the exception. Crosshair was certain that without Hunter keeping him in check that he would have been de-commissioned ages ago.  </p><p>So he sat up and scooted next to Hunter. "I'm.. sorry. For missing that last shot. The droid got too close and I don't know... just turned into a blur," he let out a sigh. "I think my eye-sight is getting worse-"</p><p>"It's not your fault," Hunter muttered. "I had it- I mean I <em>knew</em> where the droid was- but then a generator reset." </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"On floor 12, sector 7. The emergency generator to the barracks reset and caused a small power surge that I could <em>feel," </em>Hunter explained with a shrug, as if that made sense to anyone other than himself.  "It made everything blur, and I didn't realize the droid was behind me until it was to late." </p><p>"That's okay- we'll get them next time!" Wrecker said confidently. </p><p>Hunter's hands balled into fists. "And if there's not a 'next-time'? You heard Dross- they're loosing patience. We barely passed our last qualifications and now..." </p><p>He trailed off, not needing to explain what happened to Experimental Clones that didn't live up to their worth. All three of them had all watched as other cadets who were <em>different; </em>who were taller or shorter, or just a bit weaker, or would get headaches more often; disappear into the night. But before the somber mood could fully settle in, there was a soft knock on the door that they all immediately recognized. </p><p>Hunter instantly brightened up as he called out, "99! Come in!"  </p><p>The door opened to their favorite <em>ori'vode, </em>who was wearing his normal light blue uniform and a kind smile across his face. 99 always made it a point to check in on them, especially after their training sessions with Dross. </p><p>"I just saw your score from training," he said.  "You all are improving!"</p><p>Crosshair rolled his eyes. He more than anyone hated the Scoreboard- a public listing of all cadet squads training scores.  "Sure... we went from averaging 0 points to 3."</p><p>"And I'm the one who got those points!" Wrecker said proudly. </p><p>"It's still an improvement," 99 pointed out.  </p><p>Hunter stood up, wobbling slightly as he walked over to 99 to give him a hesitant hug. The Kaminoens and trainers enforced a strict no 'affectionate contact' policy, with the rationale that it would create weak soldiers. High-fives were barley tolerated, no to mention what would happen to anyone exchange or a <em>keldabe.</em> hugs. But Hunter found himself not really caring. The brief embrace was the only thing that could possibly comfort him after the day the he had.</p><p>99 gladly accepted, then held Hunter at an arms length to examine him. "Dross didn't hurt you boys again, did she?"</p><p>"No more than our usual beatings," Hunter weakly joked. "Apparently it improves morale." </p><p>" 'don't know what she expects from us," Crosshair said bitterly. "Hunter can't be in that training room for more than five minutes without almost passing out. I can't see anything if it's not at least twenty yards away. And Wrecker... well, is Wrecker." </p><p>"Gee, thanks." </p><p>99 gave Crosshair a sympathetic look. "I know that you're trying your best-"</p><p>"Cross is right- our best isn't good enough," Hunter retorted. "Nothing we do will ever be good enough. They're just looking for an excuse to-" </p><p>"Do you know what I think?" 99 interrupted, not allowing him to finish that train of thought. "I think you boys are like a puzzle."</p><p>"So we're boring?" Wrecker asked sincerely. </p><p>99 chuckled. "No- it means that you're each unique and different but fit together perfectly. But I also think that you boys might just be missing a piece before a bigger picture emerges." </p><p>"Whats that supposed to mean?" Crosshair said, arching an eyebrow. </p><p>"You can come in!" 99 called out over his shoulder. "They won't bite." </p><p>The three Batchers watched with curiosity as a very small Clone appeared from around the corner. In one hand was a standard-issued duffel, which was almost the same size as him. In the other was a data-pad that, based off the modifications to the hardware, was certainly not standard issued. He had huge yellow-tinted goggles that engulfed half of his face and most importantly, like everyone else in the room, he was <em>different.</em> Besides his small stature, his hair was a lighter color and his face was rounder than that of a standard Clone. </p><p>"This is EC-64," 99 explained as the small Clone stepped next to him, pressing close to his legs. "The trainers thought he would be a good fit for your squad." </p><p>"That's the polite way of calling you a loser," Crosshair said, earning him a slap behind the head from Hunter. </p><p>"I'll let him get settled in," 99 said, patting EC-64 on the head. "And keep your heads up- you'll be blasting droids on the battlefield in no time." </p><p>As soon as the door shut behind 99, the three larger boys stood in a half circle around the newest member with crossed arms and critical looks. This wasn't the first time the trainers had tried to introduce someone new into their group. But they never lasted- they always ended up being just too <em>different. </em> </p><p>"So whats your deal?" Wrecker said bluntly. </p><p>"My- my deal?" the small EC stuttered, looking from Wrecker to Crosshair to Hunter as if he was analyzing each micro-expression that passed across their faces and every small shift in their posture.    </p><p>"Yeah, your deal. EC's don't end up with us unless they have issues," Crosshair said. "So whats yours?"</p><p>"I don't know... I guess I have a good memory," EC-64 replied. "And I'm good at making things. Like this." He held up the boxy data-pad.  </p><p>Wrecker groaned. "Oh great- a nerd." </p><p>"What do you mean 'a good memory'?" Hunter pressed, trying to figure out what Dross's angle was. What was the point of introducing such a weak EC to their group, unless she was finally setting them up to fail?</p><p>"The doctors... and the trainers, they give me manuals to read, and then things to fix. So I fix them," EC-64 said. "I've already finished all my standard course-work and read every manual in the common library."</p><p>"Oh, really?" Crosshair challenged, grabbing his own data-pad from his bunk. "In the Cadet Handbook, what is regulation 384?"</p><p>EC-64 thought about it for a moment, then said, "5th year cadets shall have hair no longer than a 2 on top, 1 on the side." </p><p>"That's... right," Crosshair stared at the paged, baffled.</p><p>"It sounds like you belong in a Technical Division, or with Engineering Corps," Hunter said. "So why did they stick you in here with the delinquents?"</p><p>"Well, the trainers did try to put me with the other 6th-year cadets today," EC-64 admitted. "But they didn't really like me and the feeling was mutual." He paused, looking down at his slightly scuffed boots. "So I might of caused a black-out in the barracks." </p><p>"You did what?" Wrecker balked. </p><p>"It wasn't that hard," EC-64 said with a shrug. "The power grid here isn't that secure, so all I had to do was plug in at an unguarded terminal. Then- boom. Lights out."</p><p>They all stared at this too-small Clone with his too-big goggles until Hunter broke the silence with a laugh.</p><p>"So that's why the emergency generator kicked on," Hunter mused as he slung an arm around EC-64, who flinched at the friendly gesture. "You know what? I have a feeling that you might actually fit in with us." </p>
<hr/><p>99 was right- as he often was. EC-64 was quickly named 'Tech' by Wrecker and seamlessly integrated into their misfit squad. It only took a few training sessions for their strengths and weaknesses to start balancing each other out, and it came in such as natural way that- if they didn't all look so drastically different- they could have been mistaken for "true" batchmates. </p><p>Hunter found that he could easily adapt Tech's straight-forward and analytical way of problem solving for the quick-paced training simulations. The two of them would stay up until the early hours of the morning, drafting battle strategies and laughing as they purposefully gave their plans the lamest names possible just to mess with Crosshair.  </p><p>And what Tech lacked in physical strength was more than compensated for by Wrecker. Whenever Wrecker saw him struggling to get over an obstacle, the large Clone would simply pick up a protesting Tech and launch him over whatever was standing in the way. Despite the man-handling, Tech and Wrecker became fast friends. Tech took up the job of tutoring Wrecker for his basic classes, and was the only one who had the patience to walk him through the same reading problem over and over until he understood. </p><p>Crosshair and Tech complimented each other in the most literal sense- Tech's extreme farsightedness and Crosshair's nearsightedness often left the two working close to one another. On the training floor they would be glued at the hip, with Tech calling out coordinates to which Crosshair would easily calculate, aim, and fire. </p><p>"At least there's one functioning pair of eyes between the two of you," Hunter joked. </p><p>Once the group found its rhythm, they aced dozens of training simulations in an unstoppable whirlwind over the course of three months. </p><p>"Is that all?" Crosshair called out as soon as the last training droid was downed and their squad designation- EC9 -appeared at the number 4 spot on the overall ranking scoreboard. </p><p>They all thought Dross was going to burst a blood vessel right then and there.</p><p>But, of course, all good things eventually came to an end and an EC squad being on the scoreboard attracted the wrong kind of attention.  </p><p>Their troubles started a few days after that. </p><p>It was a normal afternoon following training with Dross, and the four boys piled into their too-small room, laughing and whooping at their success. They only had a few minutes to change out of their training armor and into the day uniforms, so they got to work unfastening all the layers. EC's weren't permitted to eat with the rest of the regiment, so they had to go to the scullery and pick up their lunch. It didn't bother them. They would bring the food back to their room and watch a non-permitted holo as they ate. It was Tech's day to choose what they watched, so it would most likely be some type of nature documentary. </p><p>"Tech, mark down maneuver 'Idiots Array' as a success," Hunter said with a smile, removing his training helmet. </p><p>His dark hair had grown out longer than what regulations permitted, but Hunter found himself not caring. He pushed a few stray strands off his sweaty forehead and noted that if it got much longer, he would have to start tying to back somehow. </p><p>"I hate that name," Wrecker grumbled, unbuckling his shin-greaves. </p><p>"Why's that?" Tech asked, well aware of the answer. </p><p>"Because I'm the idiot in that plan!"</p><p>"But did you see my last shot?" Crosshair bragged, taking off his bracers. "Three lined up in my scope and boom," he mimicked shooting a blaster. "Three down." </p><p>"Lets not forget the star of the show- our idiot," Tech said playfully, punching Wrecker in the chest-plate. It barley registered as tap for the large Clone. "Body slamming that droid? Iconic."</p><p>"Yeah," Wrecker said, still sounding disgruntled.  </p><p>"Are you alright?" Hunter asked, noting that he had started to clutch his right shoulder. </p><p>"'m fine," Wrecker gritted out. "I think it's just dislocated."</p><p>"Again?" Tech sighed. </p><p>Their working theory was that, due to Wreckers over-accelerated growing, that while he was structurally sturdy, his connective tissue was much more delicate. He was constantly jerking limbs out of place, pulling muscles, and getting massive bruises that would linger for weeks. </p><p>Wrecker lined himself up to the edge of the metal wardrobe and, before any of them could protest, slammed his shoulder back in place with a sickening pop. </p><p>"Fixed it."</p><p>"Wreck! Let us handle it next time!" Hunter yelled, wincing at the noise. </p><p>Wrecker shrugged, as if it were nothing. "Can we go get some grub- I'm starving!"</p><p>As soon as they were in uniform, the four boys headed down their normal side-hallway route. They had quickly learned the best ways around Kamino to avoid Regs, along with their side-glares and whispers. Tech had it timed it out so the hall was empty. Except for today- there was a lone figure standing between them and the scullery. It was Dross, her arms crossed and expression sour. She was an imposing figure, standing at around six feet but her silver and black armor made her appear much larger.</p><p>"Afternoon, sir," Hunter greeted with a salute, not looking up to meet her cold eyes. </p><p>"That was some good work you did today," Dross said, but the lilt of her voice made it seem like anything but a compliment. "I think it's about time you boys got rewarded for your new place on the scoreboard."</p><p>"That's okay- we're good," Tech squeaked, the words barley leaving his mouth.  </p><p>"Ya'll get to eat in the mess today," she said. "Just like everyone else. That's what you want right- to be like the other cadets?"</p><p>None of them responded because their answers would have landed them in serious trouble. </p><p>"It's just that we've always eaten separately," Crosshair gritted out. </p><p>"Not today," Dross countered. "What? Are you to good to eat with everyone else?"</p><p>Before Crosshair could come back with a smart-ass answer, Hunter stepped in. "No, sir. We'll report to the mess."</p><p>"Good," she said, turning on her heel and walking away without another word. </p><p>"I don't like this," Wrecker nervously said as soon as Dross was out of earshot. </p><p>"It'll be okay," Hunter hoped that he could keep the rising anxiety from his voice. "We'll stick together and out as quickly as possible. Just keep your heads down." </p><p>"Easier said than done," Tech muttered. </p><p>And he was right. The second they stepped into the mess hall, the low chatter went dead silent and hundreds of identical faces turned to look at them.</p><p>Hunter swallowed heavily and straightened his posture, staring dead ahead to avoid making eye contact. As the four boys filed into line to grab a meal-tray, an older Reg shoulder-checked Crosshair and cut between him and Wrecker. </p><p>"Watch where you're going," the Reg smirked. </p><p>Crosshair would have thrown a punch right then and there if Tech hadn't quickly grabbed his wrist and shook his head <em>no. </em>Still bristling, Crosshair jerked his hand away but stepped back, which allowed space for a second Reg to also cut between them.</p><p>"Nox, I didn't know they let the rejects eat with us," one of the Reg's stage-whispered. </p><p>"I told you, Ryne, the Regiment is going to hell," the other replied. "They'll let anything that can hold a rifle live nowadays."</p><p>Hunter bit his lip, knowing that they were just looking for a reaction, and he wasn't about to them the satisfaction. So they continued through the line at a painstaking rate, trying to ignore the whispers and glares as they grabbed their food. By the time Hunter's meal-tray was full, he couldn't have cared less about eating. He was just trying to keep track of his other three Batchers. He turned just in time to catch sight of Wrecker walking down the center isle towards an empty table in the back. </p><p><em>Maybe we'll get through this after all, </em>Hunter thought- but immediately regretted his words.</p><p>He felt as if he was watching a disaster in slow-motion. Wrecker was passing by the table with the Regs from before when the one named Nox suddenly stuck his foot out. Wrecker was to slow to react and fell face forward, his meal-tray flying from his hand as he hit the ground with a loud thud.</p><p>The entire mess erupted with laughter. Hunter cursed, abandoning his food and ran over to help but Crosshair and Tech were already at Wreckers side, helping him get up. Wrecker's face was a deep crimson as the jeers echoed through the large room.</p><p>"Whats wrong, freak? Can't see in front of you?" Nox goaded, causing his table laughed harder. </p><p>"You tripped him," Crosshair snarled. "Apologize. Or else."</p><p>"Or else what, freak?" Ryne said, standing up and pushed forward so they were chest to chest. "What are you going to do?" </p><p>Hunter glanced over and could see that the trainers- especially Junno- were watching closely. He knew they wouldn't step in, just merely observe how the four of them reacted. Also knowing that they would be blamed for any altercation that followed, Hunter quickly wedged himself between the two. </p><p>"Listen- I'm sure this was an accident," Hunter forced himself to say, trying to stay as diplomatic as possible- against every instinct that told him to <em>fight</em>. "So if you apologize, we'll walk away. Easy as that. Okay?" </p><p>The rest of the Nox's table stood up behind their leader. There were five in total and Hunter assumed that they were 7th year cadets, so about 16 in standard years. They had no distinguishing features, no small deviations or scars- just perfectly standard Regs.   </p><p>And like sharks smelling blood, the rest of the cadets in the mess had also started to slowly rising from their seats. It was ingrained in all of their DNA to sense when a fight was about to start.  </p><p>"You're that EC squad," another Reg from the table said, almost as an accusation. "The one that's on the scoreboard."</p><p>"What about it?" Wrecker scowled, his face still bright red.  </p><p>"We used to be up there," Ryne retorted. "Until you rejects bumped us down. Now that doesn't seem fair, does it?"</p><p>"Hmm, maybe instead of crying about it, you should just try harder," Tech said in his matter-of-fact tone that struck just the right nerve with the Regs. </p><p>Before the Nox's fist could make contact with Tech's face, Crosshair struck. He kicked Wrecker's discarded meal-tray and it shot up, catching Nox right in the gut. He doubled over, giving Tech the time he needed to lunge forward and drive his knee into Nox's groin, sending him to the floor. </p><p>There was a heavy pause before hell broke loose. The rest of the Regs jumped from their seats, surrounding them in a loose ring and chanting '<em>fight! fight!</em>' </p><p>As fists began to fly, Hunter grabbed Ryne by the back of the neck and leveraging his weight to tackle him to the ground. They grappled at each other, and Hunter got a sharp elbow to the jaw. But what Hunter lacked in strength, he more than made up for in dexterity. He managed to slip behind Ryne and get him into a choke hold, but just before he could completely pin him, a heavy boot came from nowhere and slammed directly into Hunter's nose.</p><p>He felt the crunch of cartilage and saw stars as he was thrown to the side. Disoriented, Hunter looked around and realized that the crowd was pressing closer and closer- and that's where the boot came from. He began to panic, fully aware that not a single one of the Regs would take their side.</p><p>Just like it always turned out to be, it was them four against the world.</p><p>
  <em>We needed a way out, and fast. </em>
</p><p>Ignoring the blood that was gushing down his face, Hunter scanned his surroundings. Wrecker seemed to be having the time of his life, picking up one of the Reg's and throwing him into the spectators, knocking over about three cadets in the process. Crosshair and Tech were back to back, trying to avoid fists while trying to land a few blows of their own. He noted that Crosshair's lip was busting open and trickling blood, while the right lens of Tech's googles was cracked. Still. Hunter looked past them- and spotted their way out.</p><p>There was a bowl on the abandoned table, half full of a thick yellow substance that he could only assume was the Kaminoen attempt at a pudding. He scrambled forward, jumping up on the table and picking up the bowl. Not bothering to aim at anyone in particular, Hunter reeled his arm back as far as possible and launched the bowl into the crowd. He could hear a <em>splat, </em>followed by an angry yell of disgust quickly followed. Satisfied at his work, he lept off the table and landed in next to his brothers. </p><p>"Look out!" Tech yelled, jumping onto Ryne's back to trying and drag him away from Hunter- with very little success. </p><p>Hunter waited a beat, then another as he got spartan-kicked square in the chest by Ryne. His chest heaved, not just because of his freshly cracked ribs, but with a new wave of anxiety. But just when it was looking like they would have to fight their way out, Hunter spotted a flash of silver. And to his absolute delight, someone in the crowd had thrown their full meal-tray into the air in retaliation. Followed by another, and another, as food-projectiles filled the air. </p><p>If it had been hell that had broken loose before, what followed was absolute and pure chaos. Cadets began to throw their food, quickly loosing interest in the small brawl for the much larger scale fight. It quickly became a battle of honor. If a Reg from one squad was hit by another, the two groups would began to fight it out on a matter of principle. Apparently it didn't take much to get the Reg's riled up. </p><p>Grabbing Tech, Hunter used his own body to try and shield the smaller Clone from the flying food before yelling, "Lets get out of here!"</p><p>Wrecker nodded, shouldering his way with ease through the fray as the other three boys followed. Nobody paid them any mind- the Reg's were much to focused on each other and settling old grudges or starting new ones. They had almost made it out when someone caught Crosshair's eye. It was Nox, who was using a tray as a barrier in an attempt to keep his uniform clean. He was so distracted by not getting hit with slop that Crosshair came up behind him and gently tapped his shoulder. When Nox spun around, Crosshair punched him square in the eye, sending him to the ground. Shaking out his fist, Crosshair crouched next to the downed Reg. </p><p>"This isn't over," Hunter growled in his ear. "You'd better sleep with one eye open." </p><p>Certain he got his point across, Crosshair ran after his brothers and together they bolted through the exit- and didn't stop until they reached the safety their room.</p>
<hr/><p>Their punishment for destroying the mess and getting several dozen Reg's sent to the infirmary wasn't direct- that's not how Junno Dross operated. It would have been too easy to give them extra-duty hours, or a few early morning marching tours. No, instead she simply made their lives a living hell. The bacth's normal rest periods became non-existent. Instead, it was training course after brutal training course. Even after they had mastered a particular simulation, she would make them re-run it with no apparent end-goal. If displeased at their performance, Dross would make it extra difficult by adding an overwhelming amount of training droids or limiting the amount of cover was available to them.</p><p>To make matters worse, one morning Crosshair got clipped by a stun-round that left him with a deep, nasty burn on his arm. As Tech administered the first-aid, they all had the chilling realization that Dross must have turned off some of the safety protocols. But they had yet to fail a course, and each victory only seemed to anger their trainer more.</p><p>And to make matters worse, they had an even bigger target painted on their backs during their scarce off-hours. Word of their fight spread quickly through the rest of the regiment. Every trip to the scullery or medical appointments was met with harassment and scuffles with the Regs. It got to the point where they could barley walked to training without first getting into a confrontation. The current record was Hunter not even making it three steps outside of the room before he was slammed against the wall by a Reg. </p><p>After a full week of erratic hours and injuries, the Batch was starting to reach their breaking point. </p><p>The four boys staggered into their room after a 3 am wake up call followed by six hours of weapons training with Dross. Hunter couldn't even get his armor off before he collapsed onto the cold metal ground, curling into a tight ball to block out the painful world. He could feel every flipped light switch, every door opening, every damn electrical pulse running through the building. For one the very few times he could recall, Hunter felt like crying- but was to tired to even do that. </p><p>The rest of the batch wasn't doing much better. Tech's migraine had been constant for the past two days, but had flared up from hours under florescent lights. Knowing he couldn't make it into his top bunk, he opted to crawl into Crosshair's lower bunk and bury his face under the pillow. Wrecker flopped onto the opposite bunk, hissing in pain as he tried to kick his boots off. He had pulled a muscle in his lower back, causing every small movement to send daggers of pain through his body. And Crosshair was just plain exhausted. He always had a hard time maintaining a normal sleep cycle, but the past week had only allowed him a few erratic hours of shut-eye.</p><p>"Is this her plan?" Tech mumbled, the pillow muffling his voice. "To see how long until we slip up? And then what?"</p><p>"Dunno," Crosshair murmured sleepily, drawing the foot-blanket over himself and Tech. "Maybe we just need to let Dross win... make this all stop." </p><p>There was a light knock on the door and 99 let himself him, frowning with concern at the state the boys were in.</p><p>"What can I do?" 99 asked gently, crouching next to Hunter. </p><p>Hunter could only whimper in response before promptly passing out. With a sad sigh, 99 grabbed the a spare blanket off the top bunk and draped it over the boy before going around and checking on everyone else. He helped Wrecker remove his boots and gloves, and then handed Crosshair a cold water bottle. </p><p>"Do you need anything Tech?" 99 asked the lump under the blanket. </p><p>"Turn off the light, please." And when the lights were flipped off, Tech let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."</p><p> "You boys get some sleep," 99 whispered, not knowing if they had heard him over Wrecker's snoring. </p><p>At some point in the night, Hunter jerked awake after a hazy dream, wincing at the cramp that had formed in his calf. He glanced up at the clock and realizing he had only gotten three hours of sleep, he laid back down with a sigh. He knew that there was no way he would be able to fall back asleep, so he opted to just stare at the small sliver of orange light coming from underneath the door and quickly become lost in his own thoughts. </p><p><em>There's nothing I can do about Dross, </em>he thought, <em>But we have to get the Regs off our backs. A head on fight wouldn't accomplish anything... we need to send a message. </em></p><p>So by the time the rest of the Batch started to stir, Hunter had most of a plan formulated. He had to admit, he was pretty proud with just how diabolical it was. As soon as he saw Crosshair blink awake, Hunter got up from the floor and hauled himself into the bunk.</p><p>"Get off," Crosshair grumbled, half-halfheartedly kicking at him. "There's not room for three." </p><p>Hunter grinned and wedged himself between Crosshair and Tech, earning a groan from both of them. </p><p>"I've had an epiphany," Hunter announced.</p><p>"I'm sorry to hear that," Wrecker said. </p><p>"You don't even know what that word means," Crosshair scoffed, then turned his angry glare back to Hunter. "It better be a good one- or else I'm going to kill you for waking me up."  </p><p>Hunter started to walk them through his plan, quickly grabbing the attention of the other three boys. By the time he was finished, Wrecker was about to fall from his bunk in excitement. </p><p>"Well it certainly is a... unique way to approach the situation," Tech admitted. </p><p>"Hang on a minute," Crosshair said. "This is just going to piss Dross off even more. And I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty sick of 2 am training."</p><p>"She'll hate us not matter what," Hunter countered. "At least this way we won't have to worry about the Regs bothering us. Don't you want to grab lunch without getting in a fight? Besides, we need to get back at them for picking on Wreck like that."</p><p>Crosshair considered it. "I guess you're right."</p><p>Wrecker pumped his fist in the air. "When are we gonna do it?"</p><p>"Tomorrow," Hunter decided. "That'll give us enough prep time and-." </p><p>Suddenly, a sharp alarm rang through the room followed by a computerized voice over the comms. "<em>Unit EC-9, report to training room 5</em>."</p><p>Letting out a collective groan, all four boys staggered to their sore feet and grabbed their gear, trying to mentally prepare for whatever torture Dross had in store.  </p>
<hr/><p>It only took a few short hours for the boys to bring Hunter's plan together.</p><p>Tech quickly accessed the Regimental roster, scrolling through thousands of numbers and pictures of identical faces until he found who he was looking for. </p><p>"Got them!" Tech announced, "The last squad to get bumped from the scoreboard were a group of 7th years- Kilo Squadron."</p><p>"Good to have a name for the enemy," Crosshair remarked.  </p><p>"That's only half of the story," Tech continued. "They have CC- designations and are slated for ARC training in a few years."</p><p>"I'm sure getting their asses kicked in a food fight wasn't a good look for them," Hunter mused. "And now they're about to look like absolute morons."</p><p>Hunter and Crosshair's contribution to the plan took more finesse. During the early hours when only the skeleton crew was on staff, they snuck down the hallways and past cameras into the of the kitchen storage rooms. It wasn't hard to find what they were looking for. Most of the shelves were just filled with packaged nutrition rations and freeze-dried meals. The actual cooking supplies were reserved for when the Kaminoens entertained special guests. </p><p>Since Wrecker was hard to miss, he stayed in the room with Tech and together they watched hours of security footage, taking note of times and movements of Kilo Squadron until they had their schedule down to the second.</p><p>Once regrouped, Hunter looked over his small group warily. </p><p>"If none of you want to come, its understandable," Hunter said. "I can say I acted alone..."</p><p>"Getting cold feet?" Wrecker scoffed. </p><p>"No-"</p><p>"We're in this together," Crosshair said, giving him a firm nod. </p><p>"Yeah- what are Batchmates for?" Tech added shyly. </p><p>Hunter smiled, "Thanks. Now, are you ready to teach these Regs a lesson?"</p><p>At exactly 2115, the four boys crouched down in an alcove inside the long hallway that lead to the cadet barracks. Opposite of those doors was the open that led to the communal fresher and showers. Hunter was about to check the time of Tech's data-pad when, like clock-work, Kilo squadron came from a the barracks dressed in shower robes, with towels slung over their shoulder. The group of five older boys walked across the hallway into the showers and as soon as the door shut behind them, Tech set his clock for two minutes.   </p><p>"Remember Cross, you're on lookout," Hunter said. "Tech, you've got the timer?"</p><p>Both Crosshair and Tech nodded. </p><p>"Wrecker- are you ready?"</p><p>Wrecker grinned wildly. "They won't know what hit them."</p><p>Tech reached into his small side-pack and pulled out a metal tin of cooking oil that they had stolen from the galley. He handed it to Wrecker.  </p><p>"This may be our greatest mission to date," Tech said, trying to sound serious. "Godspeed, gentlemen."</p><p>With a nod, Hunter and Wrecker sprinted towards the shower door as Tech remotely killed the automatic controls. Wrecker quietly pried open, allowing Hunter to slip through. Before the entryway to the actual showers, there was a small changing room where all the towels were hung and clothes were folded in neat piles. The room was luckily also full of steam, giving Hunter cover to grab all the towels and clothes within sight. </p><p>"What the-?" one of the Kilo cadets shouted, but it was too late- Hunter's arms were overflowing. </p><p>Hunter slipped back out through the makeshift entrance, making sure to jump over the large puddle of cooking oil that Wrecker had created.  </p><p>"Now Tech!" Hunter yelled, and heard the door slam and lock behind them. </p><p>With a mischievous grin, Tech accessed the water temperature controller and cranked it all the way down. Seconds later, screams were heard from the showers. The four batchers listened with satisfaction and the opposition began to bang on the door, yelling for help. Hunter handed the pile of clothes- save for one towel- to Crosshair who, with overwhelming joy, dumped them down a nearby trash chute. </p><p>"How long should we let them freeze?" Tech asked. </p><p>"That's up to Wrecker," Hunter said. </p><p>"How long until someone notices?" Wrecker replied. </p><p>"I say we have about three minutes."</p><p>"Hmm," Wrecker pondered, "I think its time for part two."</p><p>Tech nodded, unlocking the door and suddenly slamming them open, causing the five members of Kilo Squad to fall over each other trying to get out of the freezing room. But the second they stepped out into the hallway, they found themselves slipping and hitting the ground <em>hard.</em> Now, not only were they naked and freezing wet, but they were also covered in soap and cooking oil, unable to get solid footing. </p><p>"What the fuck!" Nox screamed, trying to stand up only to fall back over again. </p><p>Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker, and Tech stepped out from their spot in the alcove, doubled over in laughter. Hunter could hardly get a breath in, and Tech was fully leaning on Wrecker for support so he didn't fall over.  </p><p>"I told you that we weren't even," Crosshair addressed them as Hunter held up the singular towel. "Consider this your warning. You keep messing with us, and you'll regret it."</p><p>By now, the commotion could be heard from inside the barracks, and Regs began poking their heads out of the door. They were astonished at what they were seeing, but their shock was quickly replaced by jeers and laughter. Hunter found it amusing how quickly they turned on their own. </p><p>"I'm going to kill you!" Ryne yelled, trying to launch himself at Hunter only to slip and crash back into the ground.</p><p>"You're just a bunch of defective freaks!" Nox spat. "They won't even waste the bullet to put you down- they'll just throw you into the ocean."</p><p>"And you're pathetic," Hunter scoffed, and threw the towel at him- which landed a foot short. "Last time I checked, you're the one that can't even stand up to fight." He then motioned for his three Batchers to follow. "Lets go."</p><p>They turned and walked out of the barracks hallway and once they were certain no Regs were following, they looked at one another and began laughing all over again. </p><p>"That was brilliant!" Tech exclaimed. </p><p>"We're in so much trouble," Crosshair mused. "But totally worth it. There's no way the other Regs will ever let them live that down."</p><p>"Serves them right for tripping me," Wrecker said with a satisfied huff.</p><p>"We really should make ourselves scarce for the next few hours," Hunter said, then looked over at Crosshair. "You think the weather's any good?"</p><p>Crosshair smiled. "Only one way to find out."</p><p>"Wait- what do you mean?" Tech asked with a frown as he followed the other three boys down a service hallway he didn't recognize. "Are we going outside!?"</p><p>"You'll see," Wrecker said coyly. </p><p>When they hit the dead end of the hallway, Wrecker reached up to a ceiling panel and pulled it down. Once it was set to the side, he cupped his hands together and boosted Hunter up through the hole, followed by Crosshair. Tech looked up nervously.</p><p>"Is this safe?" the small Clone asked. </p><p>"Not really," Wrecker replied, grabbing Tech under the arms and heaving him up before a protest could escape his lips. </p><p>Tech landed in a small crawl-space that he quickly realized to be an air duct. It was just big enough for Wrecker to shimmy through and was pitch black. </p><p>"Don't worry," Crosshair said from somewhere ahead. "Hunter will get us through- just listen to the sound of his voice."</p><p>"This way!" Hunter called out as he relied on his extra sense to guide them through the tunnel. Even if he hadn't done this dozens of times before, it would be easy enough to follow the faint electrical pulse of a lighting beacon that was up ahead. </p><p>After ten minutes of crawling through the ducts and getting covered in dust, they reached a grate that was loosely latched to the frame. Hunter undid the fastenings and poked his head outside. It was a perfectly clear night on Kamino, which was rare. He could see storm clouds in the distance, but they wouldn't reach the city for hours.  </p><p>"Watch your step Tech," Hunter warned, carefully lowering himself down onto the small platform that hung over a sixty foot drop into the ocean. </p><p>"What- how did you find this spot?" Tech asked, sounding absolutely awestruck. They were someone at the top of one of the city domes, but away from any windows or gangways. The nearest structure was an observation post, yards away and the curvature of the building obscured them from any prying eyes. </p><p>The four boys sat down on the platform, legs dangling over the edge and they looked up at the clear sky. It was an inky black, but the stars and distant galaxies stood out bright in comparison.</p><p>"Hunter is good at mapping out places," Crosshair explained, not taking his eyes off the sky. "Figured this route led outside. We come out here to hide- nobody knows about it except us. And 99."  </p><p>"Its. Amazing." Tech gasped as a shooting star rocketed across the sky. </p><p>"First time outside?" Wrecker guessed. </p><p>Tech nodded. "I've seen pictures... but I never imagined it was this bright. And the air is so-"</p><p>"Salty?" </p><p>"There's a whole galaxy out there," Hunter said in a distant voice. "And we're going to see it all." Crosshair scoffed, but Hunter ignored him. "I'm serious. We're going to graduate and commission and never set foot back here again. Nobody is ever going to tell us what to do, or tell us we're too different or..."</p><p>"You really think they're gonna graduate us?" Wrecker asked quietly. "We still have three more years and no EC squad has ever-"</p><p>"We've made it this far," Hunter insisted. "Just promise me- all of you promise me- that you won't give up. We're going to get through this together."</p><p>"I promise," Wrecker said. </p><p>"Promise," Crosshair said, sounding much more uncertain than Wrecker. </p><p>"Tech- you're one of us now," Hunter said, placing a hand on the small Clone's shoulder. "Promise me that you'll get through this- no matter what."</p><p>"I.. I promise."</p><p>Hunter's shoulders relaxed, as if a enormous weight had just been lifted from them. They sat in a comfortable silence for hours, dreaming about a future much different than the one that was in store for them. Around them, the stars shifted and the moon reached it apex, and by the time the storm had reached them, gentle raindrops hitting their faces, each boy felt a new sense of resolve. They were going to get through this together, and nothing - not Dross or the Regs or the Kamineons- was going to stop them. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a long overdue fic for Sorry-but-no-sorry over on Tumblr, who was kind enough to draw a scene from Forget Me Not. </p><p>https://sorry-but-no-sorry.tumblr.com/post/639830329015812096/officially-graduated-messy-sketch-based-of</p><p>All of their art is amazing, so definitely go check them out!</p><p>Update: Now with art (once again!) by sorry-but-not-sorry </p><p>https://sorry-but-no-sorry.tumblr.com/post/642495187623542784/the-weight-of-living-by-washingtonvasnormandy</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>